dark | side | thursday

For 52 weeks, I have opened each chapter of this story with these questions.

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side?

I then, as I do now, invited you to read on.

Did you have a dark side?

Or, thought you may have had one. Or indeed worried that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worried that you didn’t and would have liked one? If so, for 52 weeks, I have invited you to join me here for dark | side | thursday.

I have been writing a story. A dark story that has unfolded as the weeks passed. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC (with a few exceptions), I posted a new chapter. Each chapter was exactly 500 words long, and most were accompanied by a photograph (and those that miss a photograph will soon have one).

I would like to thank all who have joined me either by reading some of my posts, or by writing your own dark story, week by week, and those who have dropped by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suited you or, perhaps, when it didn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose.

I invited you to cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you could also find all the contributions to date. Or you could simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood have taken you, you could add the badge to your post.

I will now work on a compilation of the story. More about that in due course.

Once again, thank you for coming with me on this journey.

And now, finally, my closing chapter.

dark | side | thursday | fiftytwo

The fingers were smaller than his, delicate and trusting, those of a child.They held his hand tight. He turned to look down at the boy. The boy’s eyes were clear and bright, they held his gaze.

The boy spoke.

‘Our time is running out.’

In reply, the man squeezed the boy’s hand tighter, looked toward the horizon. Spoke one last time.

‘There will always be time.’

– – –

What follows are extracts from contemporaneous news reports.

Police are investigating reports of a man and a young boy thought to be missing off the west coast. Their identities have not been released to the press. A police spokesperson declined to comment on whether their investigation was linked to recent reports of a yacht seen adrift in the ocean. The spokesperson confirmed that officers were investigating a number of leads and asked that anyone with information should come forward. The spokesperson declined to comment on the relationship between the man and the boy.

Police confirmed today that a trawler returning to port encountered a yacht drifting in the ocean off the west coast. The skipper of the trawler, having recalled reports of a missing man and boy, interrupted his journey and members of the crew boarded the abandoned vessel. The yacht was wooden in construction, in good condition, the sails had been carefully stowed, there were no signs of damage, empty water bottles and unopened packages of food were found in a wooden compartment. Un-named sources stated that a black key had been found on the floor of the yacht. When asked for confirmation on this point the police spokesman declined to comment, stating only that the vessel had been taken ashore for further investigation.

This weekend’s dramatic stormy weather was in part responsible for the discovery of human remains in a recently opened tomb in the town’s main cemetery. The tomb had been open for some time although no one at the site was able to explain why. Alightning strike had caused heavy damage to a tree, part of which had collapsed and fallen through rough hewn boards that had been used to cover the entrance to the open tomb. Workers called to inspect the site reported that the open tomb had filled with water and that, when checking the damage, they discovered the the remains of two unidentified persons below the surface of the water. Police were called to the scene but declined to comment on the discovery.

Un-named sources have reported that remains recently discovered in the town’s cemetery were those of a man and a woman. Both were reported to have been badly burned and the body of the woman suggested that she had recently undergone abdominal surgery. Police declined to comment on what they described as unhelpful speculation.

Sitting on the bench, she watched them, busy behind the hastily erected screen that covered the tomb’s open mouth.

As the evening drew in, she placed a hand over her swollen belly, smiled, and rocked a little.

The portal to dark | side | thursday opened on the twenty first day of may in the year twenty hundred and fifteen and closed today

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Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

Share this:

Like this:

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

Share this:

Like this:

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fortynine

Walking with a purposeful stride, he did not turn back, did not see the pillar of smoke towering over the breaking waves.

Share this:

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Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

Share this:

Like this:

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

Share this:

Like this:

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

Share this:

Like this:

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fortyfive

…he heard her screaming and screaming her voice distorted slithering across the precipice of madness he could not imagine what she thought was happening or how she perceived the extent of his feelings for her or how he thought it might end or where it would lead his mind was an incoherent mess the thought slipped off the edge the cold razor that sliced the air between us and him and me and her and all of you and the darkness that always sits inside us as we work and play make love plan and fail try again and pick ourselves up and fall down deep into the pit from which freezing fingers grasp but can not reach and still his mind could not cope with the sound the terrible searing sense of loss that he knew would follow and all the while the pain that he knew that she was feeling could surely not be even remotely comparable to the selfish and frankly quite pointless grief he now felt for what had never been and had in reality only been and even then for a brief moment a snapshot a glimpse of another world beyond his a world he did not and could not and never would understand however hard he might have tried or ever might try and yes he had tried so hard to understand and speak the language and to accommodate and make compromises and yes he had made mistakes and yes now he knew that it was pointless and it had always been pointless and he could no more save her from the flames than he could now wake from this long cold dark night full of slivers of light bitter whining whispered words which always ended as he was locked in a nightmare filled with flames and smoke and screams and regret and pain and stone cold fingers inscribing sentences on shivering shoulders and so many more feelings he could not or dare not name not to himself nor to anyone else in fact certainly not to himself because he knew inside there was no answer unless he dared to open the box and turn the key and so again he pressed his fingers into his ears to drown out the screams and words endless words to make them go away he thought of the pigeon sitting on the lamp post and the wind in the trees and the cold white light over the distant hills the spires and towers the shifting petals of opaque green glass the outstretched waving hand the fake plastic premise the red glow of candles and the warmth that sense of home coming that once he had before the darkness came again in relentless rows and rows of cold distant empty typed words and even then he could not believe that the end was not coming but had already passed and the future was now and he heard her as she screamed in pain as she had in ecstasy…

The portal to dark | side | thursday opened on the twenty first day of may in the year twenty hundred and fifteen and will remain open for fifty two weeks.

Share this:

Like this:

Do you need, desire or crave a new challenge? Are you open to sharing your dark side? Then read on.

Do you have a dark side?

Or, think you may have one. Or indeed worry that you might have one. Or, for that matter, worry that you don’t and would like one? If so, join me here each week for dark | side | thursday.

Over a period of 52 weeks, I am writing a story. A dark story that will unfold as the weeks pass. Each Thursday, at 13:00 UTC, I will post a new chapter. Each chapter will be exactly 500 words long, and will be accompanied by a photograph. You can catch up on the story so far by clicking here on dark | side | thursday

Share your dark side?

I invite you to join me either by writing your own dark story, week by week, or, if that is too much, by dropping by, now and then, perhaps when the mood suits you or, perhaps, when it doesn’t, and by sharing a photograph, poem or a suitably dark piece of prose. To cross over to dark | side | thursday create your post, tag it dark side thursday and link to it by clicking on the dark | side | thursday badge below, where you can also find all the contributions so far. Or you can simply share your link in the comments section of my weekly post. And, should the mood take you, you can add the badge to your post.

dark | side | thursday | fortyfour

He grasped the box with his fingers and withdrew it from the hole in the side of the chimney stack.

He held the box in both hands, standing there in the dark. The rotting stench of modern man’s failure, to live in harmony with his environment, filling his nostrils.

The chattering, rustling sounds around him abated, the denizens of the dark base of the chimney stack for once silenced.

He turned and walked back to the light, holding the box still in both hands.

His door lay closed before him. He could not remember climbing back up the concrete stairs. He let go of the box with the fingers of his left hand and opened the door. He closed and locked the door behind him. Walked across to his narrow desk, laid the box on the desk, almost but not quite touching his silenced Mac.

He opened the door of the fridge next to his desk. Took out the bottle, flipped open the wire clasp that held the rubber bung in place. He lifted the bottle, noticing how little remained, lifted the bottle to his mouth and in one swift movement drained the bottle, leaving not a drop.

The liquid burned and swirled inside him. He knew that sensation only too well.

He sat at his desk. The box before him. His fingers moved over the box and, knowing exactly where to press and with how much pressure, the box slowly opened to him. He reached inside and took out the key.

As his fingers touched the key a short sharp shock ripped into him, the same feeling he had when he touched the tone arm of his turntable, his feet bare and cold on the tiles.

He stood, walked through the door, into the sleeping area. He switched off the lights, lay down on the bed and held the key in both hands.

He lay there, the key held so tight in his palm that the knuckles of his fingers tensed and whitened. They would hurt later, and badly. For now he was oblivious.

He closed his eyes and as his mind drifted, so a light seemed to appear before him. A faint light, not unlike that thin strip of light that lay at the end of the corridor. And, like that light, a light that promised much but seemed to grow more distant the more he reached out towards it.

He heard the screams. He felt the searing heat of the flames. Screams mingled with the roar of the flames, the ripping of wood surrendering to the fire. And the terrible smell, the smell he could never forget.

As she burned.

His eyelids flickered as the flames gathered and roared. His fingers iron hard as they held the key.

He heard her screaming over and over again, the same words he always heard.

‘Don’t let them take him, not now…’

And her anguished eyes, as she looked through the flames towards him.

Her words, always repeated. Never heard.

The portal to dark | side | thursday opened on the twenty first day of may in the year twenty hundred and fifteen and will remain open for fifty two weeks.